


Somewhere Only We Know

by missmallorymarie



Series: Missing Pieces [5]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst, Angst and Smut, Bisexual Shiro (Voltron), Cunnilingus, F/M, Fluff, Lauren and Joaquim said they were leaving it open ended, Oral Sex, Porn, Shiro is a fucking goddamn gentleman, Shiro the bisexual icon, Smut, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, Wet Dream, also, because bitch i am bi as fuuuuuuuck and like, soooooo i'm rolling with it, this fic has it all, very smutty smut, you think he's back but PSYCH
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-28
Updated: 2018-07-28
Packaged: 2019-06-17 13:13:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,239
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15462162
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/missmallorymarie/pseuds/missmallorymarie
Summary: Reunited at long last. A bittersweet reunion between you and Shiro after his alleged disappearance on the Kerberos mission. And there may or may not be some spicy time. There's totally some spicy time. But can you two hold on to this paradise in each other's embrace, or will it all crumble?





	Somewhere Only We Know

**Author's Note:**

> Hello friends!  
> Welcome to the latest installment. I can say with the utmost conviction that I'm going to be more regular with this series, as I have big plans for where I want to go with it. It has even gotten into the territory of me plotting the sequel series that will tie off this storyline.
> 
> I know we're all aware of the happenings of SDCC 2018, as in certain revelations. I just want to assure you all that this series is not going to be abandoned because SOME twats are harassing fic writers and telling them to delete their Shiro content because they think he's exclusively homosexual and fangirls are "erasing his sexuality". To which I would like to say that A.) LM and JDS left his sexuality open to interpretation and I've always thought of him as bi/pan so I'm sticking with it, and B.) saying that he cannot be bi/pan directly contradicts that and is therefore erasing the representation that all of us bi/pan folks choose to see in him. 
> 
> TL;DR, for the same of this series, Takashi Shirogane is a bisexual man. Got an issue with it? Then don't read it. 
> 
> Also, an update, I have officially created a writing sideblog on tumblr if that is of interest to anyone. Come find me @nebulous-library and talk fic shit to me! 
> 
> Enjoy the filth

The door creaked slowly and you heard the intruder enter. You stood facing your reflection in the bathroom mirror, seeing the terror in your own eyes. You hadn’t been expecting Keith. Other than that, anyone who would have planned to stop by would have texted first, or at least knocked. On top of that, anyone else wouldn’t have known where you hid the spare key. Whoever it was knew how to get in.

Every sound, no matter how faint, rang loud and clear in your ears. From the clacking of shoes against the tile in the entryway, to the slipping off of said shoes, to the gentle clicking of the door being shut, to the shuffling of socked feet on the carpet. Loudest of all was the way your heart hammered in your chest. You trembled but knew you had to defend yourself. Of all the places in your home, you had to have been in here. You scanned the space around you for anything that could suffice as a weapon. Fat load of good the hairbrush would do you. Didn’t allow for much in terms of fighting from a distance. Hairdryer? No. Come on, what good would that do you, especially without being plugged in? You supposed you could always twirl the cable like a lasso, sling the dryer at the intruder, and please to any deity that would hear you that it would work. You settled on the plunger. Long enough, heavy enough. You could get a good swing out of it, you supposed. Okay. You were armed.

Brandishing your weapon of choice, you gathered every ounce of resolve that dwelt within you and quietly opened the door. You snuck down the hall into the front room. You sensed a presence, a large one, and prayed that you could hold your own against whomever had chosen your apartment to break into.

The figure had seated himself on one of the barstools and was examining the periodical you had left own. You noticed the broadness of his shoulders as he straightened his back, gulping at the thought of how massive he must be standing up. As if hearing your thoughts, he closed the journal article and rose to his feet. You could hardly believe your eyes as his features caught the light. His lips were the first thing you noticed. They were just as plush and inviting as ever they had been. You noticed his chiseled jaw and cheeks, his hair that beckoned you to grasp it by the fistful, but most of all, those eyes. Striking and steely, but still full of the warmth and tenderness you knew. They locked onto yours, and your heart stilled.

“Shiro?”

Your plunger fell from your grasp and landed with a thump.

And before you knew it, you were wrapped in each other’s embrace. Oh, how long it had been since you felt the warmth of his chest against you, and how painfully you had yearned to wrap your arms around his neck one last time.

His hold on you was secure, but gentle. One arm across the middle of your back braced you firmly against him, and his other palm was splayed out just above that. He buried his face in the crook of your neck, his breathing as shaky as yours. You found yourself holding him there as your tears fell onto the fabric of his shirt. You didn’t recognize the material, but it was absorbent nonetheless. As you carded your fingers through his locks, both out of something instinctual inside you that told you this would soothe him and out of the need to assure yourself that this was really happening,

There was nothing else in the world but him in that moment. Outside of his arms, the universe simply ceased to exist. The room was dead quiet aside from both of your strained breathing and the pounding of your hearts. You squeezed your eyes tightly, clinging to him as though he would vanish into thin air if you didn’t hold on. Gingerly, you let the hand that teased his trusses fall to his neck, trailing up and down with a featherlight touch.

No words were exchanged for quite some time. Your mind swirled with so many questions. How could you pick which one to lead with?

_Where have you been?_

_How did you get here?_

_How are you not dead?_

“Do you have any idea how much I’ve missed you?” was the one that decided to come spilling from your lips.

He shifted, removing his head from its resting place on your shoulder and allowing his hands to slip to your waist. He stared into your eyes and the expression he bore was unlike any you’d seen before. Not only on his face, but on that of any human. He looked rough, to say the least. He looked as though he had been to literal hell for a thousand millennia, as though he had stared death in the eye and nearly lost time and time again, and as though he had been holding on by the thinnest gossamer. But he looked as though at the moment of his greatest despair, he had seen a light. He seemed as if he didn’t believe it, as if that glimmer of hope that he so desperately wanted to cling to was too good to be true.

You saw pain on his face, a grief that could not humanly be spoken. Anguish. Despair. Perseverance. Hope. Patience. _Focus_.

His hands had found their way to your face, cupping your cheeks, his thumbs stroking your skin ever so delicately. And then his lips crushed against yours, drinking you in like an oasis in the midst of a vast expanse of desert. His kiss softened, following the explosive taste of pure need with that of pure love.

When he parted from you (much to your discontent), you saw the tears welling in his eyes.

“Not a second passes that I don’t think of you,” he said, the usually-steady rhythm of his voice now wavering. It was not often that he got choked up. Hearing him in such a state combined with his sentiment was enough to push you over the edge, tears streaming yet again down your cheeks, this time burning as they traced the trails of their predecessors.

You brought your hands over his, taking note of their uncharacteristic roughness. The skin on his knuckles was dry and a few of his fingers felt like they had been broken and then not properly set. Regardless, the touch was his. The familiarity was overwhelming. You traced the backs of his hands before squeezing them.

“Me neither,” you managed to choke out before your emotions overwhelmed you again. You threw yourself into his chest, holding on for dear like. “Oh, Shiro, it’s been just dreadful! They….the things they’ve been saying… I just…they…I---” You spoke through hiccups now, but he understood.

“What you’ve heard isn’t true. I’m here,” he reassured, taking his turn in stroking your hair. “ _You’re_ here.”

You felt as though you could melt into him right then and there. You felt complete for the first time in months.

A wave of initiative swept over you as you broke the vacuum seal between your bodies just enough to reach up, pulling him into another kiss. You lingered there, bathing yourselves in the ecstasy that was your reunion at last. No longer would you have to suffer through those bitter nights, laying awake and lonesome. No longer would every last nook and cranny of your home feel like a phantom memory there to remind you of what once was and could never be again. No more wishing to feel his gentle caress one last time, craving his hands roaming the planes of your back and down your hips and…

Your lips parted at last, but your faces remained mere centimeters apart. The change in your breathing was noticeable, to say the least. Your throat went dry as you scrunched at the hair at the base of his skull. You could tell from the way his eyes were trained on your mouth that he felt it too.

“Shiro, honey, I…” you began stammering. Come on, you two had done this numerous times before. Getting nervous to ask now? Get it together.

In one swift motion, he swept you off your feet and into his arms bridal-style.

“….bedroom?” he asked, almost uncertain as to whether this was the time or place for such activities. You nodded, grateful that after even all this time, he could still practically read your mind. Your eyes were locked on his and vice versa as he carried you down the hall. It was a wonder you hadn’t crashed. Your feet caught on the doorframe a little, something for which Shiro apologized profusely as he set you down on the mattress. Oh, how you’d missed his attentiveness. Annoying now then, but it had always struck you as sweet, knowing how much he cared for you and your wellbeing. You just had to assure him from time to time that you were alright. This was one of those times.

The sheets were a mess from many a restless night prior, but he didn’t seem to mind. As you sat up, he crawled onto the mattress beside you and began to plant the softest of kisses everywhere from your forehead, to your temples, to your nose, to your cheeks, and eventually to your lips. His fingers rested on your collarbone, ever careful not to press into you with too much force. They began tracing lightly up and down the collar of your robe, the tugging exposing only a sliver more of your chest than was already visible. But something there caught his eye, something that glistened under the soft light of the lamp.

“What is….?” he began, reaching in the direction of the chain around your neck, stopping as if to ask your permission.

You followed his gaze, realizing yourself what had caught his attention. You smiled, plucking the dog tags from where they had framed your décolletage, allowing him closer inspection.

_His_ dog tags. The ones he’d so slyly snuck into your hand upon his departure.

You saw a tear well up in his eye as he carded them between his fingers and let them drop back to their resting position.

“You really did keep them safe,” he smiled tenderly, stroking the strand of hair that had falling into your face and brushing it out of the way.

“Of course I did. I promised I would,” you said, returning his smile.

And like that, your lips met again. Each kiss bore sentiment, and you couldn’t explain how you knew. It was as if you two alone spoke this strange language of love. The first few were soft, quick pecks.

_“I love you,”_ they said.

 Then they lingered, maintaining the same delicate pressure.

_“I love you so, so much.”_

He cupped your cheek and the kisses deepened.

_“I never want to be apart from you again.”_

And again.

_“I miss you.”_

He held you against his chest and kissed you as if he needed to breathe you in, as if he could not bear even one second without you.

“Sweetheart, I need you,” he said ravenously.

You looked at him through half-lidded eyes, swallowing the lump in your throat. If you hadn’t been craving him before, you sure as hell were now.

“Take me, Takashi,” you crooned, catching his lips in another kiss. “I’m yours.”

And with your permission, his lips nipped at yours once again and began trailing downward. The slight stubble on his chin tickled your neck as he marked your jawline and throat. Oh, how you’d yearned for this. You threw your arms around him, running one hand along his neck and the other along the broad back of his shoulder. There was a tension in his body that hadn’t been there before. As he found that sweet spot just above your collarbone, you sighed, digging your fingers into his muscles. He knew your body almost better than he knew the back of his hand.

He toyed with the tie on your robe as his lips broke contact with your flesh. He nuzzled against you as he hesitated to tug it open completely.

“Are you sure…?”

“Absolutely,” you said with the utmost assurance.

That was all he needed to hear before he undid the knot with a single pull, exposing about 90% of your body. Part of you wished you’d been wearing more, or even something sexier than just a basic set of undergarments, that he might have more of a present to unwrap. But he didn’t seem to mind as he took in view, eyes trained on the way your chest moved with each slow, deep breath.

He reached for your right breast, seemingly reluctant to lay so much as a finger on your body. His eyes flicked back and forth from where he was aiming to checking for any indications in your expression that he should not keep going. Your eyes met and you smiled at him reassuringly. His touch was hardly more than a gentle caress through the padding of your bra cups. His kisses resumed where they had left off, his lips coming to rest at your cleavage as he snaked his arm under your back to make the attempt to release the clasps. You leaned forward, allowing him to free you of your confines. You rolled your shoulders back, letting your robe fall entirely from your body, and shimmied the rest of the way out of your bra. Both were cast aside with other articles of clothing in your mess of a room.

You basked in the way Shiro looked at you. All the years you’d been together, and he still looked at you as if he were seeing you for the first time.

You reached for the front of his ensemble, pulling his mouth to yours. You kissed him hungrily and sloppily as your tugged at the material, trying to figure out how the hell to get him out of this thing. It took some finagling, but eventually you freed him of his peculiar jumpsuit. Good riddance to _that_ thing.

Finally you could indulge in the feeling of his bare flesh against yours. Your body already felt like a smoldering fire on the inside, and his body heat added to that only served to turn that smolder into a blaze.

His kisses along your chest turned from nipping to biting. He seemed intent on leaving as many marks as he could, determined to claim every centimeter of your body as his. Your body reacted accordingly as he went lower and lower until reaching the waistband of your underwear.

This part had always made you shy, but good heavens, the man was fantastic with his mouth. Instinctively, your thighs drew together and you reached for him.

“Shiro, wait, I….”

“Do you want me to stop?” he asked, genuine concern in his eyes.

“Well, no, it’s just that, well…” you began mumbling.

He took your hand in his, planting a kiss on the back of it.

“What is it, dear?” he inquired between delicate kisses on each of your knuckles. “You can tell me.” He treated it as though it were his mission to pepper your hand, each knuckle, each digit in a million tiny kisses.

“I just…you don’t have to do that if you don’t want to,” you said, cheeks flushing.

“I would love to. If you will allow it?”

Shyness be damned. You nodded. Shiro gave your hand a gentle squeeze before releasing it. You mindlessly let it settle amongst his dark locks.

He made himself comfortable between your thighs and stripped you of the last piece of clothing on your body. You lay entirely exposed before him. He hooked one hand under behind your thigh and began teasing you with featherlight kisses. You stroked his hair in response, and you could practically feel the smirk on his face as his gentle pecks became love bites in an instant. You inhaled sharply as he continued. You proceeded to cover your mouth with your free hand and fought with yourself as to whether you ought to look at him or continue to shut your eyes and squirm under his touch. You knew the answer.

You weren’t surprised that his eyes were locked on yours when you peered down at him. Entranced, you maintained that eye contact as he wasted no time in dragging his two fingers tantalizingly along your slit, dipping in only slightly as he flicked his tongue over your clit. Your hand as a gag did practically nothing in terms of stifling the moan that escaped your lips.  

You could see the disappointment in his eyes that you had tried to keep such a sound from reaching his ears. Shiro reached to tug your arm away, mumbling your name.

“Please, sweetheart” he begged. “Let me hear you.”

Obediently, you nodded.

“That’s my girl,” he smiled, continuing to tease you with his painfully strokes to your folds. His tongue worked your clit masterfully, and you practically gripped at his hair with a steel claw. Your thoughts were merely strings of profanities by the time he finally plunged those fingers into you, which your body readily accepted. You fought to keep your eyes open when the next moan made its exit, but kept them trained on Shiro through it. He looked proud of himself.

He worked his fingers deeper into you, keeping the same steady pace and stretching you open with scissoring motions. You felt yourself beginning to lose control when he grazed over your clit with his teeth before switching from gentle laps to suction. Combined with the way he curved his fingers into your walls, you knew that if this pace continued, you’d be done for any second now. Pressure was building within you and you knew you couldn’t retain it.

“Shiro…ah..I’m close,” you managed out breathily.

He acknowledged this by humming into you and quickening the movements of his fingers. And like that, you clamped down around him, your body trembling as you rode out your release on his face. He greedily lapped up all he could, cherishing your taste. He rose from where he had been situated and brought his fingers to his mouth. He proceeded to like them clean, groaning in satisfaction as he savored each drop.

Shiro’s face now hovered mere inches from yours as he purred, “You want a taste?”

You nodded and pulled him in, drinking in the taste of your own fluids on his lips. How kind of him to share. As his tongue slipped into your mouth, you felt that heat in your belly begin to pool yet again. You took note of his hard cock against your thigh. You reached for it, fingers dancing delicately along his shaft. He let out a soft groan into your mouth.

You pulled back, placing the heel of your palm to his shoulder in a futile attempt to roll him onto his back. He caught you by the wrist as asked what you were doing.

“Your turn,” you said flirtatiously, still lightly stroking his cock. It twitched in your hand.

“N-no, it’s okay. Really,” he said. “I…if it’s okay, I’d rather be inside you?”

You chuckled, planting another kiss on those sweet lips of his.

“What are you waiting for, then?” you teased, hooking one leg around his waist and lining him up.

“But don’t I need to –”

“Shiro, honey, I’m ready for you.”

Taking the hint, he sunk himself into you painfully slowly until he was fully sheathed in your cunt. It was hardly the case that you needed to adjust to his length, but you took that second to relish in feeling his situated inside you anyway. Heaven knows you’d missed feeling this full.

“ _Shit_ ,” he breathed. He pulled his hips back, enough to just barely remain inside you, and snapped his hips flush against yours once again. He repeated this, and you swore each thrust was deeper than the last.

You wrapped your other leg around him and hooked your ankles together, hoping this would provide him a better angle. And it did, for a while, and he was satisfied to be able to lean into you, sucking at the tender flesh at the base of your neck as he steadily rocked his hips into you. But he grew needier, as did you. He grabbed your calves and held your ankles to the headboard. You’d always adored when he’d taken such dominant initiative in the past, and this was no different. His thrusts became deeper and more erratic, and then slowed to a savory pace, as if he wanted to let the moment linger, brand it into his brain that he’d never be able to forget the way you looked beneath him with your ankles above your head.

Sensing that he was close but not yet ready to let the moment die, you figured a change of pace was in order.

“Takashi,” you cooed, dragging out each syllable of his name. “I want to ride you.”

He was one to dish it and not be able to take it, that much was certain. His face went beet red and all he could do was nod and croak out an, “o-okay.”

This time, he complied when you pushed him onto his back, straddling his hips and splaying your palms against his abs as you oh-so slowly slide down onto his cock. You knew your time was limited and soon the illusion of you having control would fade. You decided to make the most of it, rolling your hips agonizingly slowly whilst his eyes were glued to your body. You may have exaggerated a moan just a tiny bit to tease him as you ride him. You made one hell of a show out of it for him, too. Your hands roamed your own body, squeezing your tits as you mewled for him, sliding your hands down your abdomen, sliding your swollen clit between your fingers and letting a string of curses mixed with his name come tumbling from your lips.

And when the illusion dissipated, he took your wrists in one of his hands, holding them against his chest, and firmly gripping your hip with the other. It was his turn to play. Relentlessly, he bucked his hips into you, making sure that you could tell that, despite having the literal high ground, he was still in control here. But eventually that, too, lost its appeal, and he adjusted to a more upright sitting position so he could hold your body against his as he fucked, nay, made love to you.

His lips met yours with that needy, loving kiss from before. There was something different though. This kiss no longer felt like it said, “I’m so glad to be back.” Instead, it begged. It pleaded. It said, “Find me. I need you.” A fear pooled inside you, one you tried to shove into the background but couldn’t. That fear that he may disappear again if you didn’t cling to him for dear life. And cling you did.

As his thrusts quickened, you could tell he was chasing his release. You found yourself furiously rubbing at your clit yet again, wanting to finish with him one more time if he truly would be gone in an instant.

You nipped at his bottom lip, catching it and tugging, eliciting a whimper in response from Shiro. He cradled your face in his hands and kissed you as tenderly as he had the first time you kissed.

In his eyes you saw everything you had ever dreamed of having with him. You saw the future. You saw him by your side, and you felt safe and secure.

His thrusts were stuttering and his breath was hitching, but regardless, he planted a final kiss on your forehead and managed out an, “I love you.”

 

* * *

 

 

You woke up gasping for air. Your chest heaved as you sat bolt upright. Your head in your palms, you tried to steady your breathing. The sheets were drenched in sweat around you.

Good god, what had that dream been? It was beyond realistic. To say it had shaken you to your core would have been the most colossal of understatements. You swore that he had been there, in your home, in your bed. There was absolutely no way that had just been your imagination getting the best of you.

No.

There was something about that dream that left you with a certain uneasiness.

You sighed and decided you needed a glass of water, and shuffled to the kitchen.

Having glugged down the glass in an instant, you refilled the glass to take back to bed. You went to hit the light switch off, when you noticed the sky shining through the front room window. Something about the sky tonight seemed to call out to you. It stirred a familiar feeling in the recesses of your mind.

You thought yourself a fool for even suspecting it as a possibility, but it nagged at you from the pit of your soul.

Shiro couldn’t possibly still be out there somewhere, could he?

It was insane, that much you knew. But you also knew with an unfailing certainty that he had to be alive.

 

**Author's Note:**

> THIS TOOK ME SO LONG AND SO MUCH STRUGGLING TO WRITE. I call the headspace I need to be in to write smut "The Bone Zone" and oh bitch, I was having the hardest time entering The Bone Zone. 
> 
> But tadaaa. Behold, my longest work of fiction. It was a bitch to write, and an even bigger bitch to try and self-edit. Please let me know if you catch anything I missed.
> 
> Come at me with your commentary and thoughts, either down below or, again, at my BRAND NEW writing blog, @nebulous-library on tumblr.


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